


Boss

by 0fsilver



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: DadReyes, Gen, Mild descriptions of death, Overwatch - Freeform, Past Abuse, descriptions of violence, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8120848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0fsilver/pseuds/0fsilver
Summary: Five hours ago you had your weapon trained on a child.





	

**  
**Gabriel Reyes and Jesse McCree.  
  
Overwatch Short / Quick fic  
—  
  
Five hours ago you had your weapon trained on a child. **  
**

Now you’re sitting in a deserted cafeteria with the brat watching him shovel cheesy noodles down his throat. He doesn’t stop to breathe often, you keep snapping at him to “chew dammit”. You’ve even poured him three glasses of water cause he chugs the damn cup so fast. Like he’s drowning.

You won’t let him wear the hat at the table even if it’s just a metal rectangle. Need to start with respect somewhere. Kid already calls you “Boss” which shouldn’t make you worried. You wonder who else he called “Boss” and what punishment he’d receive for getting it wrong? The way he looked at you after you raised your voice the first time, you never want to see again.

No reason to ask about family, his type is clear. Bruises fading yellow on his cheek. Fingernails worn to the pink, one of his knuckles healed wrong leaves the hand crooked. He’s missing a tooth and he cried when he thought his hat was gone. It’s an old hat. Patched cheap but with care. Kid’s slurping down noodles and his eyes keep glancing at the damn thing by his side. Checking to make sure it’s there like it’s all he has.

Jesse cared more about the hat than his own life for a split second. The way he held it to his chest when you turned the corner of the warehouse, weapon ready. There’s no reason you didn’t shoot him. You should have. You were in a firefight, there were men seconds ago trying to stab through your armor while they hissed and fought. You mowed them down in the name of justice and went looking for more and instead you found a kid. Holding a gun in his shaking broken hand and knowing for a moment he was going to die.

So he hugged a damn hat to his chest and waited for it.

“We’re going to need to get that hand fixed.” You finally speak up and Jesse’s fork skids across the plate half empty. You startled him with voice alone and there’s a cold feeling dropping down your stomach. “If you ever want to protect someone,” Your holster is empty and you’re still half dressed for a raid, but he knows what you  mean. Why you spared him, gave him the choice. “It’s got to be fixed.”

Jesse McCree. That’s the name he gave you. Whether it belonged to his father or he saw it scrawled on the side of the road once doesn’t matter. Kid’s name is Jesse McCree and now his name and life are yours to protect.

“That something you can do?” He’s quiet now, adrenaline cools leaving him exhausted. You see it in lashes dropping every few minutes. His breathing slows and all at once he jumps back away and pulls at the hem of clean clothes as if to confirm what was real.

“We have an alright doctor. Just don’t tell her I said so.” Jack told you he doubted they’d be allowed to do for this kid. Stressing that he /is/ a criminal and doesn’t know how easy it’s going to be. Apparently he was quite taken with your determination to keep him anyways. Jack’s probably using every drop of his sunshine charm to get those papers cleared through the appropriate channels.

“Can you fix other stuff?” Jesse asks and it’s just a second but you see him tug on the sleeve hiding a brand. A gang member’s initiation, you’ve seen it before on plenty of bodies stepped over that night. You’ve seen it on criminals standing in line to be booked. Snarling street men and women trying to claw out your eyes. You’ve seen it on morgue tables and mission files. Dead teens brutilized and street walls marked with both paint and blood.

“I think we can figure something out.” You don’t promise anything, but the kid smiles anyways like he’s starting to catch on.  
  
“Sure thing, Boss.”

 

 

 

...

 

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off Reyes and McCree work by vimeddiart on tumblr.
> 
> Art referenced w/out permission. The two are not directly linked. I just really love that artist and was immediately inspired.
> 
> stfusterling.tumblr.com


End file.
